Mind, Body, Soul
by K. East
Summary: They were fighting a war, and living the fight. AU. [ZK]
1. Arc One: Knowledge

ARC ONE: MIND

The First Chapter

Knowledge

The first thing that must be made clear is that we are at war. War is not something that can be stopped with a simple handshake. In my world, it's eat or be eaten. Hunt or be hunted. Kill or be killed.

The second thing that must be made clear is that the family of Agni is full of backstabbing, no-good, wealthy people who shouldn't be sliming up this Earth. Especially their kids, who have no right to be on _our_ streets and in _our_ side of town.

The third thing that must be made clear is that you will never, _never_ call me Katara. To be called by your real name, in my "family", is to be rejected. _Out_. It'll set the others on you like flies on a raw steak.

If you mind your way, though, you'll get _respect_. And nobody will dare to touch a person of respect.

That's why the call me The Cat. Because I'm independent; I step around all the dirty stuff.


	2. Reason

ARC ONE: MIND

The Second Chapter

Reason

"It's no good." He twirls the blade between his fingers, perched on an old crate somebody left behind. Since then, it was reserved for him: the leader. The thinker.

"I think it is." I tell my brother, referring to our latest problem. "They're gonna do it. I can tell."

"How can you tell?" pipes up Flighty, the youngest in the group. He is only 15, which makes me mourn. No kid should have to deal with what we deal with. Not even here. But Boomerang, my brother, is the leader, and he decides who's in and who's not. There's another 15 year-old, actually – a girl.

"We haven't seen any of the Agnis in awhile, right?" I point out. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who sees these things.

"Cat," interrupts T., "You're wrong. Zuko jumped Boomerang last week."

"Which is exactly what we're getting them back for," I deadpan. "They've got to be planning this. Those guys are filthy rich."

"So that's the plan, then?" Boomerang glances around the little alley. "We crash the party, mix a little strong stuff in the food, and nick their stuff?"

T. jumps in again. "That's pretty lame. No offense, Boomerang."

My brother narrows his eyes, but doesn't react. "What's your idea, T.?"

"We drug the punch and jump their woozy asses," she laughs. "_Then_ steal their stuff."

"That's good," I comment. And in my approval, faces relax all around and everyone is ready to give the newcomer the respect she deserves.

"Prove us your worth something," mutters my brother. He leaps up and slinks away, headed for who knows where.

"I'm headed for the hardware store," announces Flighty, touching a hand to his inked head. "See if I can nick some more paint."

"Red, Flighty. _It's their favorite color,_" I say sarcastically.

"Ciao, Flighty."

After both guys have left, T. turns to me. "Cat."

"What?" I fiddle with the little handknife. It's the only weapon Boomerang will let me have; it's strictly for self-protection, he says. I'm good with it, too.

"Seen Jet around?"

I snort a little. "Boomerang sent Jet and his crew to the North side to do a little scavenging. Nothing major."

Silence envelops us. Our gang is perhaps the most diverse in town. We were the people who hated one thing and one thing only – the Agnis, and anybody even remotely related to them.

Jet and his "crew" (consisting of Smellerbee, Longshot, Pipsqueak, and the Duke) are thieves. They called themselves the "Freedom Fighters" – that is, before Boomerang introduced them to _our_ posse. Now they are just "Jet's crew".

The Duke never talks. He's one of those troubled types. Boomerang isn't too sure about him, but it would take just one mention of the name ("_Dao_, old buddy,") to seal his outcast.

Pipsqueak is a misnomer. He's _huge_ – but unfortunately not too intelligent. He'd be the brawn of the group, except that half the year he goes to an academy in another state. Hasn't done him much good.

Smellerbee and Longshot are Jet's closest friends. Longshot is a mute – which might seem hindering at first, but he's good at expressing himself…and he's a hell of a shot when it comes to guns. Smellerbee is the only other girl in the gang, but just like T. and me, she is not to be underestimated.

Then there's Jet.

Jet is…rebellious. He's a born leader, actually, and I can tell it irks him that he isn't in charge. But when Boomerang let them in, it wasn't free. In our little family, you protect your own. No matter what.

Jet isn't just an extraordinary thief; he's an excellent fighter and could give even Flighty a run for his money. He's quick, agile, tall…

I guess you could say he's my…buddy. To be put into very, very vague terms.

But god, that man is possessive. Ever since he laid eyes on me, he was intent on having me. And what can I say…?


	3. Sanity

ARC ONE: MIND

The Third Chapter

Sanity

I weigh the bag in my pocket. _Half in the punch, half in the salsa,_ Boomerang had said. Then they would be _just_ woozy enough…

It's funny, actually, how easily I got in. Dress in red and am automatically assumed to be one of Azula's lackeys. As long as I avoid the Princess herself, I should be safe.

Strolling through the crowded mansion of a home, I look for the refreshments. Hopefully, Flighty stayed outside like he was supposed to. _He's awfully conspicuous._

Suddenly, a hand falls on my shoulder; I turn around slowly with a feeling of anticipation and foreboding. _Has someone recognized me?_

"Care to dance?"

I stare at the proffered hand, the golden eyes, the black hair. The flaming scar. _Shit._ Bile rises up in my throat.

"Um – Zuko, is it?" I ask weakly.

"Yes." His eyes, so _intense_, are facing me like – like – a lion. Oh, god how I hate Zuko Agni. How I hate _all_ Agnis. But for the sake of pretense –

I take his hand.

Smoothly he pulls me towards him and we fall into a waltz. I don't know the steps. I've never had any reason to learn, living on the streets. On the move. But Zuko leads, one arm around my waist – ugh – and the other clutching my hand. My left hand is resting on his shoulder.

"For a friend of Azula, you aren't a great dancer," he comments.

I narrow my eyes. _Way to get a girl, retard,_ I want to say. _And I'm no friend of hers._ But I can't blow my cover. Boomerang would have my head.

I spot the table of refreshments just as the song is ending.

"Thank you," I say hastily, attempting to get away; but Zuko sweeps me into yet another dance. I curse under my breath at thee sensual music. The tango.

_Well, at least it's something I can do,_ I reason as my hated enemy leads me across the dance floor. _It's all about structure._ And we dance.

Each round, I count the steps in my mind. _Step, two, three. Look back; forward. Step, two, three. Dip._ A blush floods my face as Zuko stares at me for a brief second, then spins me away.

The song ends and I notice everyone watching us.

_Damnit._ That's the last thing I need – all the attention to be centered on me. Boomerang is probably wondering what's taking so long. Hastily I curtsy and stride away into the cluster of chatting guests, attempting to melt away. I find the beverage bowl and reach into my pocket, every-hated these stupid fancy clothes that Jet insisted on. Hands shaking, I tear open the packet – _why are they shaking? This is nothing I haven't done before! Damn_ – and dump most of the contents into the punch. The white powder dissolves almost instantly. I sprinkle the remainder into the adjacent bowl of green salsa and pocket the scrap of paper, my job done. I turn around, thinking, _now I just have to wait._

A warm hand grabs my wrist.


	4. Confidence

ARC ONE: MIND

The Fourth Chapter

Confidence

"Come with me."

I gaze at the hand clasped around my wrist, then back at Zuko.

This is bad. Very bad.

If I don't, he will surely figure out…

"Where?" I laugh quietly. Nervously.

"Just come with me."

I find myself being dragged along extensive hallways, full of people who already seem to be feeling the effects of the spiked punch.

_Well, at least Boomerang can get to work on his part,_ I think humorlessly.

Zuko drags me into an empty room and he shuts the door, locking it. Cursing under my breath, I quickly assess it for escape routes (_One window. Three feet to the left of me_).

Zuko approaches quickly, striding across the room. I inhale sharply as he wraps one arm around my shoulders (_shitshitshit_) –

And something cool presses against my neck.

"If it isn't _the Cat_," he sneers, "sneaking into my own home."

"Zuko," I greet him, struggling not to stare at the knife that is inching towards my windpipe. One clean swipe and there'd be one less member of "the Squad" (no one said Boomerang had to be good with names).

"What are you doing here?" he snarls, pressing his weapon just slightly into my skin.

My hands grope at my pockets and I feel the cold handle of my jackknife. I know what I have to do. Protect my side, no matter what.

Zuko doesn't see the weapon. "Ickle Katara wanted to play Princess?" he taunts. _Slam_.

There is a brief moment afterwards when Zuko stares at me. I stare back. Both of us unbelieving. Then he crumples forward, falling as I yank the knife out of his gut. Gingerly, Ii wipe the bloodstained blade on his shirt, casting him a glance of pure dislike before climbing out the window.

You will _never_ call me Katara.


	5. Decision

ARC ONE: MIND

The Fifth Chapter

Decision

"This is a real piece of shit," muttered Jet. "Every Agni alive is out for my blood." We're sitting together on a low stone wall – waiting.

"Mine, too," I remind him. "If I'd killed him, though, they wouldn't be so slacking."

"Azula will kill you the first chance she gets."

"I'd return the favor," I hiss. "I was sparing."

"Were you?"

I stand up, pushing his arm off my shoulder. "What are you implying?"

Jet shrugs. "Nothing."

Deciding not to waste him another thought, I swivel on my heel and leave.

I'm stepping down the sidewalk of 23rd Avenue, looking for Boomerang, when I hear a clatter. Instinctively, I press myself against the wall of the nearest building. Muffled curses echo from a little alley not more than three meters away from me.

I know that voice.

I'm about to whistle for one of the gang when I see. Torso still bound, he struggles past a stack of junk crates. He sees me, and halts.

We both smell death in the air, and I know it sure as hell ain't me –

But something strikes me.

Something strikes me, deep inside, as the look of utter, understanding _fear_ on Zuko's face is mirrored in a memory.

_"Daddy!" I call. "What's going on?"_

_Sokka rushes into the room and wraps his arm around me. "Katara, shh. We don't want them to know we're here."_

_I wriggle around in his arms, protesting, "Who? Where's Daddy?"_

_"They're taking him, Katara. Dad's going to jail."_

_"He didn't do anything," I whimper._

_"They'll be after me, next, Katara. Just be quiet…we'll figure out a way to fix this." My brother, only 11, stands stock-still as I tear away from his arms and rush to the window. The broken blinds split as I look out in horror; my father is being taken away by _policeman_, hands cuffed. He glances back for a moment – I know he sees me, because three syllables fall from his silent lips like raindrops._

_"_Katara_…"_

My knife clatters to the ground. I don't even remember drawing it, nor do I remember striding so close to Zuko. A hand – _my_ hand, I realize – has subconsciously closed around his collar. I release him, and he gasps for breath.

"No more," I say.

"What?" The 19 year-old narrows his golden eyes at me, one lid crinkling beneath that violent scar.

"No more," I repeat. "I'm tired of war. I'm tired of blood. I'm tired of being _the Cat_."

"Liar," he hisses, taking a fighting stance.

"No." I step away from him. "I refuse to die at the hands of an Agni. I refuse to die at the hands of anyone but myself. Make some small peace with me, Zuko," I beg. "Let me blindly trust someone. Once, I want to trust. _Then_ I'll be ready to die."

He returns to a relaxed stance. Eyes unflickering, he replies, "Trust me."

And I almost laugh. Because I never could trust an Agni.


	6. Arc Two: Heat

ARC TWO: BODY

The Sixth Chapter

Heat

It was the most heated night of my life. My mortal enemy…no longer _quite_ my enemy…in my bed.

It was a strange, twisted occurrence for both of us. She is frightened – frightened I'll turn on her without a thought. But she doesn't know that I've been thinking about her each night…wishing…lusting…seeing that slim figure in the shadows and wishing I could _have it_, and knowing it is crazy…because the Cat would kill me if she had the chance.

Loyalty is a powerful bind, but it seems to me we've both run low on it. Warring families that have struggled for generations have suddenly fallen apart. Family doesn't _mean_ anything to me now; the only thing keeping me here, in this house, is the fear that Azula will turn the others on me. They would not hesitate, I know, because of the same fear.

It's fair; it's what we agreed to. Protect your own. Stay loyal to your own.

She wraps her arms around my neck, murmuring slightly. I lay there, thinking of _consequences_. Azula knows how to break open a door without a sound. Who is to say she won't simply _come in_ looking for me, demanding _why_ I hadn't met with her about vengeance?

And I know the street gangs are tough. Traitors – like Katara – are retaliated against. I've seen their work – people deemed disloyal or useless, beaten and left for dead. Broken glass, wired fences, guns and stolen cigarettes. That's what the entire war is about. And if they found out we'd done, they wouldn't hesitate to kill me. Or hurt her. Even to her brother, Katara would be nothing more than a worthless slut who didn't belong. Didn't deserve the name of _Cat_.

And that makes everything even sweeter for me.


	7. Pain

ARC TWO: BODY

The Seventh Chapter

Pain

"Zuzu." My sister greets me coolly as I sit down. I ignore her, trying to get comfortable and figure out a way to hide what I'd done.

"Where were you, Zuko?" questions Blade. She brushes her long black hair over her shoulder, that passive expression in her eyes.

"I can't do anything against those fucking Hakoda siblings with a bad gut," I hiss, deeming it an appropriate response. "Lay off."

Blade shrugs boredly and returns to examining her namesake: a tiny stiletto she'd pulled from her sleeve.

"Let's just get on with it," prods Ty Lee, who desperately wants a nickname but is too picky to accept anything the "Princess" gives her.

_Girls,_ I think. _They come up with the stupidest things._

"So, Zuzu," starts Azula, "the little Cat of the alley gave you quite a hard time a few days ago."

"Thanks for stating the obvious." The aftermath of the fiasco a week prior hadn't just left me injured. Thirty-two people, retching and dizzy from the drugged refreshments, had stumbled up and down our hallways until Father came home. They immediately scattered in fear, but not after leaving several puddles of vomit for Azula to clean up. It is strangely satisfying to know (I'd been unconscious at the time, bleeding and unnoticed in the guest room).

"Cool it, Zuzu," Azula snaps. I realize I'm gripping the edge of my seat, knuckles white. I flush and look around the sparsely furnished den before nodding.

"Revenge," she says, "is imminent. What shall it be, Zuzu? Or, _who_ shall it be? The leader of their little troupe? The little blind girl?"

"Don't underestimate them, Azula," I warn.

Her eyes narrow. "You will refer to me as Princess in _this_ room. You know that." She smiles grimly. "The walls have ears, you know. And what are you saying? That your _baby sister_ doesn't have what it takes?"

"Those are street kids, _Princess_," I say quietly. "Fighting is their entire survival. This is just a game to you." _And nothing to me,_ I want to add.

"Don't worry. I'll still play," she replies sarcastically, examining her nails.

I just sigh.

It's later that I really think about what I've done. I lie on my bed, a banner (with the flame-shaped crest of my family) to my back, a blank white wall in my view. I've never been one for petty luxuries…it's part of the reason I never let Azula's "team" give me a nickname. Zuko is what Mom called me. Zuko is who I am.

I don't want to be part of Azula's twisted ideas. She thinks gangs are _fun_. Just an amusing little game that makes her "_cool_".

A clatter at my window tells me she's here; I unlock it, letting her crawl in. She's wearing a dark hood that shadows her face…looking completely like the Cat (but I know she really isn't anymore).

"I told Boomerang that I didn't feel well," she informs me, pulling off her disguise. "To buy time."

"Katara," I say, moving closer. I see her flinch when I say the name. But it's something we agreed on.

I fold my arms around her waist, pulling her flush against my chest. A pair of lips meets mine and I revel once again in my extraordinary luck.

"Zuko," she breathes as I kiss down her dark neck. Something stirs inside me at that tone of voice: it is so simply sincere.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"_May_ I."

"Thinskull," she mutters, but I only look at her expectantly.

She snorts and, pulling herself out of my hold, sits tenderly on the edge of my far-too-elaborate bed. "Where did you get that scar?"

"In a fire." It's a trained response; one I spent the last three years telling myself and others. I speak without hesitation…not even giving a thought to the detailed explanation I've all but extinguished from my memory.

"Is that all?" She looks at me expectantly.

"Don't worry about it," I breathe, struggling to control my voice. I stride toward her, sitting next to her as I hook my arm once again around her waist. "Don't worry about it," I repeat.

I feel her melt into my hold and suddenly a tan forehead is against mine; my breath is her breath and I want more than anything to take those lips, that body…

But even as I press against her in lust, distractions seem to leap into my path.

Something clatters to the floor.

I pick it up.

And slowly…very slowly…close my hand around the silver pistol.


	8. Ecstasy

ARC TWO: BODY

The Eighth Chapter

Ecstasy

"What's this?" My voice, so low and dangerous.

"It's nothing," she says – hastily, I think. "It's nothing…just a precaution." She attempts to snatch it from me, but I hold it out of reach.

I look at the little handgun, silver and gleaming in the light. Turning it over, I shake a cold, heavy bullet from its capsule. The pod rests on my open palm, seemingly glaring up at me like…

"A precaution for what?" Somehow I had stalked over to the opposite corner of the room. I turn my back to her, pale fingers closing tightly around the weapon and ammo.

"We're fighting a war," she whispers. "I need to be ready for anything."

I tense, turn, and hurl the gun. It crashes into the wall above her head; she flinches at the impact, but doesn't make a sound.

"This is no war!" I shout, fire running through my veins. I feel as if sparks will soon fly from my fingertips, and silently, briefly, I take comfort in the fact that the house is empty (_You and her, Zuko. You and her_) and no one can hear. "It's a goddamn _gun_!"

I calm, almost trembling. War. Why did everyone compare it to war? This _isn't_ war. This _isn't_ a nightmare. This _isn't_ some dramatic novel. This is _real life_, and I am tired of being a pawn in someone else's game.

Katara cowers, shifting to the farthest corner of the bed. _She's afraid of me,_ I realize.

I approach, and I lean down to look her in the eyes…those giant blue eyes, narrowed by hardship and suffering and loss of innocence.

"I know what you've done, Cat." Everything seems to freeze over with that name spoken. "I've seen your work. Where do you think that scout of yours, Sneers, went? When you left him bruised and bloodied and rejected?"

"That wasn't me," she protested fearfully. "That was Boomerang…it was Boomerang." It becomes a mantra under her breath, as if the possibility of her fault is diminished with each word.

I only smile wickedly, because I know now how to prove my point.

I pull up my shirt, showing her the small, newly-healed stab wound on my abdomen.

"Do you see this, Cat?" Blue stares. Blue stares at _me_. "You attacked me. Under unfair circumstances."

Just then, Katara dies and the Cat is reborn. "No!" she shouts. "Stop!"

Taken aback, I only look to her…

"Stop." Voice cold and commanding – she really becomes Boomerang's sister. "I did what I had to do. You would've killed me. It was fair."

"I wouldn't have killed you."

"You would've killed Boomerang, too, if it weren't for Flighty and me."

"He's my enemy."

"Then I'm your enemy, too," she asserts. "Isn't that what you were thinking two nights ago? That you lay with your enemy?"

"Yes," I snarl. "That's exactly what I was thinking." And then I kissed her.


	9. Lust

ARC TWO: BODY

The Ninth Chapter

Lust

People lust for many things in life…money, luxury, health, food…and a companion. That night I let my lust overtake me, and sometimes that can be the best feeling in the world.

Even after the frantic tumble of forgiveness (in which we sought desperately to relieve each other of our…burdens), I clutch her close to me, dissatisfied. I want more – every inch of her, smelling like the ocean I knew she'd never been to.

"What will we do?" Her question, not unexpected, rings about my ears like a message on the wind.

"What _will_ we do?" I wonder. "We'll leave."

"Leave." She repeats this, unbelieving. "Where?"

"The country. I'm 19, Katara. I have money." I look her in the eyes, that form, that lovely form, curled up close to me. "I can easily make the arrangements."

"Go away…and live together?"

I run one hand along her jaw. "Yeah."

"I love you."

Without hesitation, I repeat it to her. "I love you."

And I mean it.

It seems so natural to say it; neither of us give second thoughts to the enormity of the statement. In a world of little innocence, the phrase "I love you" is often used in vain.

But I don't think it has been, this time. Even now, I can't imagine life without Katara.

It might seem idiotic, going from enemies to lovers that quickly. But we are just two desperate people, a boy and girl, Katara and Zuko, hoping to come to a small understanding together…trying to find comfort in a world of hate.

It is nearly impossible to explain. Yes, I lust for her.

But I also love her.


	10. Chill

ARC TWO: BODY

The Tenth Chapter

Chill

That morning, Katara draws herself tenderly out of my arms. Blinking sleepily, I watch as she pulls her clothes back on. I crawl out of bed and stride over to my dresser, reaching inside a drawer and withdrawing a slim envelope of bills, marked "Emergencies".

"Take this," I say, pushing it into her hands. "In case…"

"As a precaution," she asserts. I turn my eyes to the ground.

"Yeah. As a precaution."

In no more than thirty seconds, she's out my window and dashing off for who knows where.

I sit heavily on my bed, thinking about everything that had happened.

_She…she danced with me. Then attacked me. She asked how I got my scar._

I shudder violently as an unwanted memory invades onto my memory.

_"Mom always said to 'look at people's faces'," I say, reminding Azula. She just laughs at me._

_"She would, wouldn't she? Well, Zuzu, there is a certain thing Mom overlooked."_

_"What?" I ask, totally oblivious to my sister's calculating glare._

_"That," she drawled, smirking gently, "Dad loves _me_. Not you."_

_"You're lying! Dad loves me!" I shout._

_"Why don't you ask him now? I hear him coming."_

_As if on cue, the door flies open and my father stands, shadowed, in the doorway._

_"Dad! Dad!" I shout, a little stupidly for my fourteen years. "Do you –"_

_"YOU!" he roars. The smell of alcohol is on his breath. I look to Azula and she only looks back at me with a wickedly hopeful grin._

_The last thing I remember is being held around the throat…a searing heat and _It's YOUR fault! You killed her…!

I awake with a start, a mantra of words repeating in my head

_You killed her_

_You killed her_

_Youkilledyoukilled_

_You_

_Killed_

_Her_

"Memories, Zuzu? My sister leans in the doorway, arms crossed and clad in her usual red and gold. Tomboyish. She sneers. "I know that look on your face. You're remembering."

"Go away, Azula." I try to keep from shaking.

"Stop the pretense, Zuzu," she snarls. "I'm not blind. Or _deaf_, as you apparently think I am. You sound like a mating elephant in bed."

I blink. In any other situation, this would've been funny.

Too bad it isn't any other situation.

"However," the Princess continues, "I'm willing to give you the chance to redeem yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I spit out harshly.

"Oh, _please_. Brother, do you really believe I wouldn't notice a girl climbing out of your window?"

I stare. "You –"

"I was here, yes. Zhao…_bored_ me," she said haughtily. "Nothing more of a _disgust factor_ than a forty-five year-old man trying to get in bed with a little girl."

I don't answer. I can't answer.

"However, enough about my less-than-satisfactory sex life," she purred, leaning forward to face me. "This about you. Yours. I could retaliate, you know. I could kill you right now; Daddy wouldn't care, oh no. He'd be _happy_. But I won't. I'll give you a chance."

I hesitate. Azula obviously wasn't bluffing. "What do you want?"

My sister smiles. "Kill her."


	11. Arc Three: Hope

ARC THREE: SOUL

The Eleventh Chapter

Hope

A/n: Because of the reader's need to see all sides of the story, this chapter will vary in point-of-view.

"Okay," I say shakily. Inside, I'm shouting, _No! Are you crazy! I…I love her!_ But what is there for me to do? _Azula will end my life and hers…_

Azula nods, still grinning. "I know you care for her, brother – so take your time." She exits as swiftly as she entered, and I'm left alone to do that I know I have to do.

Grabbing a backpack, I shove a few belongings – including a certain forgotten pistol – in. Slinging it over my left shoulder, I crawl over my window sill.

* * *

The alley is empty tonight. Jet has been arrested for stealing a knife from a hunting store. He's probably down in the police station right now, worming his way out of juvie. Flighty and T. are who-knows-where doing who-knows-what. 

Because of this, I am finally alone.

I rummage through my bag. _Is it still here?_ When I spot the little orange capsule, I sigh in relief. Good. He hadn't found it. Quickly twisting the cap off, I pop one of the pale pills into my mouth. I swallow dryly…and, unfortunately for me, don't hear my brother walking up being me until it's too late.

"What are you taking, Kat?" We're alone, and I can practically hear that affectionate capital K being spoken. Embarrassed, but seeing no way of escape, I turn and give him the capsule, hoping he won't read the label.

But his eyes fall on the little slip of paper and that curious, amused look instantly smolders.

"Birth control, Kat?" He murmurs, gripping the orange bottle like a safety bar.

I flush and open my mouth to explain, but my brother cuts me off.

"I thought you were better than that."

"I am, I just…"

"Who was it, Kat?" I'm caught off guard by this question. How can I tell Boomerang the truth? That his little sister has been sleeping with the enemy? _Loving_ the enemy?

I turn my eyes to the ground. "I can't tell you. You'd kill him." _And you'd hate me._

Boomerang's eyes narrow. "I think I already know. Ever since that gag we pulled at the Agni's party, you've been skipping out on a lot of things. You come back smelling like some expensive cologne."

"I –" I falter. How can I counter that?

"You're right, Kat, I _am_ going to kill him." He turns and starts walking briskly away.

I gasp. "No! Boomerang!"

"Stay, there, Kat!" He yells, beginning to run down the sidewalk.

"_Sokka!_" I scream, the name wrenched from my throat.

* * *

She sits in front of me at the rickety fold-out table, which is placed in the center of the tiny kitchen. The room is a mess, yet painfully bare of any trinket, or odds and ends. 

"Zuko, you shouldn't have done that," she reprimands, handing me a cup of tea. "Azula is dangerous – though it must seem horrible for me to say –"

"No," I interrupt quietly. I wrap my hands around the warm mug. "Thanks for the tea, Mom."


	12. Life

ARC THREE: SOUL

The Twelfth Chapter

Life

"_Huo_, I'm going to the market," Mom says gently. "I'll be back in an hour."

"No, Mom," I say. "I'll do it." I stand and she surrenders the little pocketbook to me. _It's so good to run errands for you again._

"Get mushrooms," she instructs me.

"Okay."

In a flash I am out of the house and walking down the street. It is so good to feel peaceful again…to feel safe. _Who knew coming to my Mom's run-down neighborhood would save my life?_

Shadows cast by silver moonlight stretch across the stony sidewalk. It's chilly, but I silently bless the night and the cover it brings. From the shadows, no one can tell who I am.

_I'll see you soon, Katara._

I weight the pocketbook in my hand. So light. _It's not fair,_ I think. _That dad has so much money and Mom is living in poverty._

I knew she'd left him, not vice versa.

But she still deserved enough to keep her going.

_Mom works all day and gets no sleep at night._

"Oh, Mom. Why did you leave?"

_"It's okay. It won't hurt you." The nondescript pill is waved in front of me in the palm of a hand._

_"Are you sure?" This isn't what I'd wanted. I had meant to get an education at this new school, get a new start…not fall into this game._

_"It'll make you feel better."_

_Tentatively, I take it. What harm can it do? Everything this boy gave had made me happy. Made me forget._

I find myself standing in front of the little grocery store. I pull my hood low, over my eyes and hastily go in. I find a package of mushrooms and bring it to the register, all the time being watched with a wary eye by the cashier – reasonably. It's ten at night and I probably look like I'm going to rob the place. I give the man a few dollars from my own pocket and he mutters a "have a good day".

_A little late for that,_ I think grimly, but simply nod.

_In, out. In, out. Funny, breathing has a pattern. In, out, in, in, in…_

_"Zuko!__**" **__Ow. In, in, in. Out. In, out._

_"What the hell are you doing?" My sister glares at me from the doorway, and I laugh. It doesn't matter that she knows, because nothing's ever going to hurt me more than I've already been hurt._

_She takes the container from me, yanks it from my hands. I wonder why she doesn't just let me have it, let me die. 14 years old and my sister is fighting on the streets, watching her older brother serve to her every whim and fall to drugs._

_But when I'm high I'm happy._

_Maybe she doesn't want to be happy._

"You."

I turn, my blood running cold.

"You…you _bastard_," snarls Boomerang, a blade held tightly in one hand. "You _raped_ my _sister_!" He leaps at me, and as I hold my arms up in defense, slashes several long and dark lines up my writs.

"Holy _shit_," I spit in pain, quickly drawing the pistol from my sweatshirt pocket I curse again as the blood spills and stains my jeans. "I didn't rape her!"

"Fucking _liar_," he hisses, cold eyes drilling holes in my head. "I _know_ you did."

"I _love_ her!" I yell. He just growls and attacks me again.

And I pull the trigger, knowing already that I'm going to regret this for the rest of my life.


	13. Heartbreak

ARC THREE: SOUL

The Thirteenth Chapter

Heartbreak

The next few days of are the worst of my life. I'd rushed home, thrown the groceries on the table, and fled to the bathroom, scrubbing the blood out of my clothes. But no matter how much I try, I can't wash away the feeling of complete hatred for myself.

I had always vowed never to kill a person. After my mom left, my dad would smack me around and even mess with my mind. He convinced me that Mom was dead and it was _my fault_.

Now I have broken that vow. I have taken another life.

"God," I whisper, curling up on my little cot. "What have I done?"

I had heard rumors that Boomerang's gang is lost, rampant and upset. Without their leader, without direction…they have fallen apart.

And it is my fault.

I suppose Katara hates me now…and she's so right, so right.

**SMASH!** A brick flies through the window, shattering the glass. I stand and look out the window, but the perpetrator is long gone. I reach down to the brick and swiftly untie the note attached.

I unfold the piece of paper, which is smudged with dirty fingerprints. My hands tremble as my eyes scan the coldly written words.

Carefully I pull a light from my pocket and hold it to the corner of the paper.

Flick.

I watched with an expression of anguish as everything – my hopes, my dreams, my future – goes up in flames.

Even as the fire eats away at the message, turns it to ash, I know I may remember these words forever.

Funny, that words from no one can affect me like this.

_She's dead. She killed herself. Don't bother._


	14. Reunion

ARC THREE: SOUL

The Fourteenth Chapter

Reunion

I'm sitting quietly in front of the high school, perched on the cold concrete steps that lead up to double doors. The courtyard is desolate, empty in the moonlight. Statues of Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe stand in shadows like tombstones for no one.

It's been a good five days since we found out what happened. To think that I'm alone, _really alone_ in the world.

I'm scared, and I've never been scared before. Not like this.

And all of the sudden, I see him. A limping figure in black, blending near-perfectly with the night. My breath catches in my throat – _it can't be_ – and it is.

_Zuko._

And all of the sudden he turns, sees me, and before I know it, his arms are around me.

I clutch his shirt and cry, so happy, until I remember _who he is_ and _what he's done_ and I shove him away.

I can see the surprise and hurt in his golden eyes, but I say nothing.

"I thought you were dead."

"I might as well be," I spit bitterly. "My brother is dead and my gang has rid of me." I look down at the bruises on my arms and legs. I never thought it would come to this. T. – no, _Toph_ – had willingly taken charge, and, though I saw a glint of remorse in her blind eyes, ordered the others on me. Not that _others_ meant anything. It was just her and Flighty – Aang – fighting together. I had fled, a bloody, shamed mess.

"You're hurt." Jasmine eyes smolder with fury, and I almost laugh – there's nothing he can do.

But then I see his arms.

"You're bleeding."

Hastily, I tear off the bottom of his shirt – the only clean part left, I note – and wind it around the biggest gash, which is oozing something red and black. In the pale, weak light, it's impossible to tell if it's blood or pus.

"Ugh." I wrinkle my nose at the sight of it. "What happened?"

"Nothing." A mask descends on his face.

"Zuko," I beg. "Tell me what's going on." I place my hands on his shoulders, turning my face upward pleadingly.

"You know what happened," he mutters finally.

"No!" I cry. "I want to hear _your_ side of the story!"

And then he's kissing me, hard and fast and violently. He grips my arms and holds me close, his dry lips against my smashed ones. Blood and spit and who-knows-what is exchanged, and I'm utterly _reveling_ in it, gasping his name and –

_CRACK._


	15. Freedom

ARC THREE: SOUL

The Fifteenth Chapter

Freedom

"Katara," says a smooth, condescending voice, "step away from him."

I stare in horror as Zuko – my lover, my confidant, the man I meant to flee this world with – slides to the ground.

There is a bullet hole in his back.

I look up into Jet's eyes and Zuko chokes on his own breath and blood.

"How…no…" I stutter. _No. No. Nonono_

"I know what you _did_ with him," he leers. "Good work, Longshot," he adds. The silent boy nods, but looks at me with utter regret. He pockets the revolver without a word.

"You see, Cat," he says, and I flinch, "he is an _Agni_. He is the picture of all _scum_ on this planet. It's these people who had your father taken away, who denied your mother the medicine she needed." He doesn't smile. "Remember?"

"Jet, you _monster_!" I hiss. "Can't you see – can't you see –" I break off, and lean down – fall to my knees. Zuko's chest is stilling with his soul.

Carefully, gently, I press my bleeding lips to his forehead. "- that I love him?" I finish.

And…

the night doesn't blacken, fog doesn't surround me. The devil doesn't laugh wickedly on my shoulder, nor does the moon fall from the sky.

Instead, at that moment, silence blankets us. It surrounds us and whispers wordlessly in my ear about the natural and supernatural, realistic and fantastic, literal and mythical.

And he dies.

Zuko Agni dies.

So many questions are left unanswered. So many secrets are left untold.

I stand.

"Why, Jet?" I ask softly. "Why did you do this?"

"Because you're _mine_," he says. "You're _mine_, not _his_."

"Give me the gun." He cocks his head at me, those _beastly_ tan eyes curious.

"GIVE ME THE GUN!"

With a trembling hand, Jet takes the weapon – the _murder_ weapon – from Longshot and holds it out to me, butt first. I take hold of it before he has a chance of even _thinking_ about keeping it.

"How many?"

"How many what?"

"How many _bullets_, Jet?" I whisper shakily. "Are there enough for you? For Longshot? For _Toph_?" I address the people I see, and ignore those I don't. I know they're there. That's enough.

"Don't be crazy –"

"Are there enough for me, _Jet_?"

"Cat!" this time it is the shocked voice of a 15 year-old blind girl who was dragged far too quickly into war.

"Don't do it, Katara," said Jet, taking on a more desperate – a pleading – tone.

And I snap.

What right does – does _that man_ have to use my name like that?

"Go to hell, Jet," I snarl. "I loved him."

And slowly, trembling, I lift the gun to my head.


	16. OFFENSE INCIDENT & ARREST REPORT

**OFFENSE/INCIDENT/ARREST REPORT**

TYPE OF INCIDENT: HOMICIDE

AREA: CHS HIGH SCHOOL

DATE/TIME REPORTED: 04/12/2007 08:07

DAY OF WEEK REPORTED: WEDNESDAY

OFFICER ID#: I7809

ASSISTING OFFICER ID#: R0065

TIME ASSUMED: 21:30

TIME ARRIVED: 08:10

TIME CLEARED: 10:34

**NARRATIVE TITLE**

DATE ENTERED: 04/13/2007 09:13

Officers dispatched to reported homicide. Shooting occurred at CHS High School in student parking zone. Two fatalities. Four unidentified minors detained for questioning on incident. Witness statements obtained and attached to case file.

**CRIME SCENE**

EVIDENCE TECH ON SCENE: Yes

INVESTIGATOR ON SCENE: Yes

PHOTOS TAKEN: Yes

PROCESSED: Yes

PROCESSED FOR PRINTS: Yes

PRINTS LIFTED: No

RECONSTRUCTION REQUESTED: No


	17. The End

THE END

Finished 04/13/07

"If two wrongs don't make a right,

and three lefts do,

then with three rights I have left.

One: that you will know me,

two: that you will love me,

and three: that you will miss me."


End file.
